


Food's for the Soul

by Deniera



Series: Promptio Week [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Communication Issues, Flirting, Food, Friendship, Insecurity, M/M, Promptio Week 2017, Romance, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 03:07:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deniera/pseuds/Deniera
Summary: [AU for Promptio Week 2017, Day 3: Dessert/Betrayal]Prompto works part time as a street-food vendor in the lower parts of Insomnia, never having met Pryna or Noctis. One day some of the Glaives who come around regularly are accomanied by a tall guy who seems to be very interested in Prompto's desserts.





	Food's for the Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Petit Four](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331615) by [ferix79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferix79/pseuds/ferix79). 



> Not beta read.

 

Boisterous laughter greeted Prompto from the street and he turned his head to look at a woman with dark, wild hair and a wicked smile pushing her way through the many people on the street to the small concrete balcony where Prompto’s cart was parked.

It was not really Prompto’s, mind you, he just worked here on occasion, turning kebab sticks and selected vegetables on the open grill and supplying the people that came to buy from the street-food cart with cold beverages as well.

The balcony was small, too small to house an actual booth _and_ some tables for people to sit at, but the owner had been lucky to secure this place for his little business, and it was going so well that he could afford hiring someone to work for him a few days a week.

Prompto liked the work. He liked the lower districts of Insomnia as well, the narrow streets stuffed to the brim with people this late in the evening, lights coming from everywhere, the atmosphere. People were relaxed down here, down-to-earth, open, easy. It wasn’t like the district Prompto still lived with his parents, calm, empty streets and people being so busy with work that they were rarely home at all.

Prompto’s home district felt empty and dead. Here, he was alive.

The woman swaggered over to his cart with wide steps and grinned at him. “Hey blondie.”

“Hi, Crowe”, Prompto smiled back, blushing.

Crowe was a Glaive, as were most of the people she came here with. Prompto knew Nyx and Libertus as her companions, and sometimes there were other men as well joining their small group, men Prompto didn’t know. But these three were regulars, and Prompto liked them. The Glaives had something on them, a certain attitude that drew Prompto in like light a moth.

They were strong, wild-looking, confident, loud. Their grins made Prompto’s knees weak and his breath go short, and the casual yet cocky way in which all three of them flirted with him had him whimpering internally more than once.

He really, really liked the evenings they came to his cart.

“Alone today?” he asked, looking over her shoulder to the streets while he put some more kebab sticks on the grill.

“Like that, wouldn’t ya?” Crowe grinned lopsided and laughed when Prompto blushed. “Nah, we have a puppy with us today, so the boys are a bit slow.” She winked at Prompto’s surprised face.

A puppy? The image of an actual dog appeared in Prompto’s mind and he shook his head. She probably didn’t mean a real dog, did she? Why would they have a dog?

“So you just left them alone?” He grinned back. “How irresponsible of you. What if they get lost?”

Crowe huffed another laugh and leaned over the grill to look at the sizzling food. Her shirt didn’t have much cleavage, but with her change in position he could clearly see the smooth skin of her collarbones and the expanse of her throat and neck, her strong jaw. Prompto’s eyes fell to the swell of her breasts, the way her shirt stretched over them, how they looked extra plump with Crowe crossing her arms under them and pushing them up a little bit.

Prompto licked his dry lips and quickly averted his eyes, back to her face. She was smirking at him with a knowing look.

“Oh, I was just so hungry,” she said. “Couldn’t wait to get here and look at what you have.”  

Prompto swallowed dryly.

In that exact moment Libertus burst through the masses of people from the street onto the balcony. “Ay!” he shouted at Crowe. “Eatin’ everything alone?”

She laughed back at him. “I’m generous, I kept some for ya.”

Behind Libertus the familiar figure of Nyx strolled onto the balcony as well, followed by a younger man who looked pretty similar to him and was looking around with curiosity.

“There’s the puppy.” Crowe murmured and winked at Prompto.

Prompto grinned and took another look at the new guy. He was tall, broad with muscles and had an undercut like Nyx, hair all dark and wild as well. Definitely younger than the other three. Black ink was covering his huge shoulders and arms under his tank top and his face was beautiful, all strong features and an intense gaze.

Prompto bet he was a Glaive in training or something. He practically oozed power and confidence and when his eyes fell on Prompto his expression turned- Prompto didn’t know what he would call it, but he shuddered behind his cart.

Libertus said something to Nyx and the young man and they laughed, moving slowly to one of the tables. The big guy smiled at him when they crossed the cart.

“I think,” Crowe’s voice pulled him back, and did he forget she was there? “We’re takin’ the usual. Fix us some extra for the puppy?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Prompto hastily said and went to work.

 

‘’‘’ ‘’‘’ ‘’‘’ ‘’‘’ ‘’‘’

 

 The evening went on busy and Prompto didn’t have many opportunities to go over and have a chat with them, like usual. It was the first night of the weekend and people were flooding the streets, many coming to just get a beer or some quick food to carry around. The few tables were occupied almost without a break, and Prompto ran around collecting empty bottles to put them back into the crates he had behind the cart (and used as chairs on occasion) and cleaning up behind some customers.

The Glaives had sat there for hours now, occasionally getting new drinks, but being easy customers over all.

It was short of midnight and business was finally slowing, Prompto feeling tired and sweaty with at least one hour to go still. He stripped off his apron, momentarily enjoying the coolness of the night’s air, when he heard someone approaching.

The new guy was smiling at him, and from this close Prompto could see his eyes in all their intensity.

“Hey,” the guy said, and god, he had a deep voice. “I was told you may have something sweet?”

Prompto inhaled. “Huh?”

The guy laughed and looked at down for a second, then back up at Prompto. “Like a dessert?”

“Oh,” Prompto said and laughed breathlessly. “Yes, I- I do. Wait.”

He crouched down and opened one of the small fridges in the cart. He rarely sold any desserts, most people would just go and look for another vendor specialized in sweets, but sometimes customers still wanted. Two of the eight glasses of chocolate mousse the owner had prepared for today were still left.

“You like chocolate?” Prompto asked, looking up at the young man. From his position he looked even taller.

“I like everything sweet,” the guy grinned, the tone of his voice, smooth and suggesting, making Prompto’s legs go weak.

He took one of the glasses and pulled the cling foil off, then took the little tub next to the glasses in the fridge out and opened it. There was a bit of the liquor cream left, so Prompto stirred it and then dumped a generous amount of it on top of the mousse, filling the glass completely.

Shoving the tub back into the fridge he took a spoon and offered it to the guy along with the dessert.

Their hands touched when the glass was taken from Prompto’s hand, and for a moment all he could think about was how much larger than his the man’s hands were, and how surprisingly gentle.

His skin wasn’t as rough as Prompto would have expected and his nails were neat and clean. Prompto’s thoughts were derailing fast and he swallowed, pulling himself back to reality.

“Thank you,” the guy said, smiling. Prompto felt himself smile back. “How much is it?”

“Uh.” Prompto blushed. Right, this was a food cart. Food for money, right.

Their hands touched again when the man gave Prompto the money for the dessert and Prompto had difficulties concentrating on how to put it away. He fiddled with the small register and then looked back at the man when he shut it, who had apparently just watched him. The dessert still was untouched.

Prompto frowned and looked from the man’s face to the glass of mousse back to the man. He smiled at Prompto and then, finally, dipped the ridiculously small looking spoon into the cream and chocolate and then slowly closed his lips around it.

His eyes closed and an obscene moan came from his throat. Prompto felt himself growing incredibly hot, felt a deep blush creeping onto his face, and he swallowed dryly as the man opened his eyes again to fix his intense eyes on Prompto.

“You like it?” Prompto said, voice hoarse.

The guy nodded slowly and ate another spoonful of the dessert. Another satisfied moan came from him and Prompto shuddered, looking at the man’s hand holding the tiny spoon, at his mouth and jaw working as he was lavishing the sweetness, at the broad, relaxed shoulders and the tattoos and imagined being hold by him, that powerful man on him, moaning into his ear.

He shuddered, eyes wide. The guy was looking at him and surely he knew what Prompto was thinking about, it must have been so obvious. Embarrassed, Prompto looked around, looked for something to do to distract him, when his gaze fell to the table the other Glaives sat on.

They were all looking at them, snickering, and suddenly Prompto felt cold.

He turned back to the young man eating his dessert, who smiled at him again and then began to move back to the table to the other three. “Thanks. It’s delicious.” With that, he turned around and walked back.

When he sat down it was as someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over Prompto. The Glaives were whistling and laughing at the guy, Nyx slapping his back and Crowe throwing her had back with laughter, almost spilling her beer.

Prompto felt uneasy, like there was some sort of joke going on, and he wasn’t in on it. Were they laughing about him?

He was suddenly fifteen again, his classmates laughing and whispering behind his back, dropping his name in between nasty giggles, shooting him mocking looks whenever he tried to strike up a conversation.

He felt sick.

With quick strides he disappeared behind a corner to collect himself, hoping that they would leave very soon.

He ignored them for the rest of the night, cleaning up and staring to pack the cart as soon as he returned, and when they finally left all he could muster was a strained smile.

 

‘’‘’ ‘’‘’ ‘’‘’ ‘’‘’ ‘’‘’

 “Hi.”

Prompto jumped on the spot and jerked around to a deep voice, swallowing when he recognized the big guy from a few days ago, the one who had been with the Glaives. The one who had thought it particularly funny to laugh about Prompto’s flustered face with his friends.

He turned fully around to regard the young man, trying to keep his face neutral. He wasn’t keen to repeat whatever happened that night and would have been happy if the guy just pissed off, but he was a paying customer, and Prompto had served the cart long enough at this point to know that word-of-mouth was a powerful device down in these parts of the city. No matter how much he disliked someone, he wouldn’t dare to simply send them away, especially if they were with the Glaives.

That still didn’t mean he had to talk nicely to that man, who had shoved his hands into his pant pockets and shot him a crooked smile.

“Food looks good today.”

Prompto remained silent, waiting for the guy to order.

“I never got your name that night,” he said.

Prompto furrowed his brows, feeling his mouth twist into an upset line. “You don’t need my name to enjoy the food.”

That seemed to have somewhat of an effect on the man. The easy expression fell off his face and he shifted his feet, obviously not having expected that answer. “Uh, no, I- ‘course not, sorry. I just thought, since you know my name-“

“I don’t.” Prompto realized he was not being very polite here, but seeing that cocky behavior slipping away from the man like the ebbing tide somehow struck a string of satisfaction deep down in him.

The guy looked confused. “I don’t know your name,” Prompto said, somewhat impatient.

There was a short, uncomfortable silence between them, in which Prompto stayed rigid where he was and the young man shifted around more.

“Sorry,” he finally said and straightened his back, seemingly regaining some of his composure. “I’m Gladio.” He moved one of his hands in an attempt to offer it to Prompto, who ducked away quickly to open one of the small doors of the wagon’s fridges, pretending to check on the stock.

“What would you like to eat, Gladio?” he asked, crouched down.

There was another short silence and then he heard a small sigh. “Whatever you can recommend.”

Prompto came up and, without looking at Gladio, assessed what he had on the grill. He randomly selected two kebab sticks that looked about done and put them on a little cardboard dish, adding a small piece of white bread and a napkin, handing everything over to Gladio. He didn’t ask if Gladio wanted a drink with his food.

He collected the money the other man had put into a small dish at the edge of the cart, furrowing his brows again.

“That’s too much,” he said, finally looking up at the retreating figure.

“Keep it.”

Prompto opened his mouth to protest, but Gladio was quicker. “Take it as tips,” he smiled weakly as he sat down at one of the tattered, wooden tables and slowly started to eat.

Prompto exhaled and slipped the excess money into his pocket.

Tips weren’t usual in Insomnia, the majority of people coming to eat down here too short on money themselves to just spend some more freely, or they came from the upper districts, where tipping wasn’t a thing in restaurants (or so he had heard). And Prompto could use the money.

He glanced over to the table where Gladio sat and had to admit that the tall man looked a bit like a kicked puppy. At this time of the early evening the streets weren’t busy, with most people still being at work themselves. Gladio was currently the only customer and thus sat alone at one of the few tables illuminated by the warmth of the street lights on the small concrete balcony at the side of the street.

It was usually a nice spot for the food cart, too small for a bigger stand, but exactly the right size to have a cozy feel to it despite being outside. The only downside was the miserable days when it was raining and people kept to actual restaurants instead of the street-food vendors.

But now, the silence was stifling, with Prompto desperately trying to find some work he could do to appear busy, and the big guy clearly being uncomfortable eating by himself.

Often when it was this slow he would strike up a conversation with his customers, but... no, not with this one.

He checked the small fridges of the cart again, moving the bottled drinks around, trying to fit another bottle in, and then checking on the small metal sheet in which today’s desserts were wrapped up individually in cling foil. Nine puff pastries filled with vanilla cream sat there next to a small tub containing some fresh berries.

It looked nice, and Prompto thought that with a bigger cart and more storage space, the owner could probably expand on the desserts. Not many people were buying them here, but still Prompto thought they were pretty good. The owner always made them himself and brought them in the morning when he stocked the cart, and Prompto imagined that this were what homemade meals tasted like.

But well. Kebab sticks and grilled veggies it was. He wasn’t the one to decide what to sell.

Some movement in front of the cart made Prompto raise his head, and there that guy stood again, looking at him with a weird expression, jaw working like he was about to say something.

Prompto stayed in his crouched position and looked at him.

Gladio sighed, body slumping. “Thanks for the food,” he said, licking his lips. “See ya.”

Prompto watched Gladio’s broad back moving to the streets. “Bye,” he said with furrowed brows. He felt weird. The satisfaction from earlier was gone and replaced with an unfamiliar uneasiness at the sight of the big guy’s slumped shoulders.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd kinda like to continue this, as I feel I've only told half of the story, but I HAVE NO TIME!
> 
> Thank you for reading anyway, I hope you liked it.


End file.
